Satan's Creation

I. hate. cats.
Is "hate" a strong word?
Yes? Good.
I HATE them.

So, my Dad recently had an opening (renter evicted) for his rental house in Queen Creek. Justin and I have been looking for a place to call home, so we thought this was a great opportunity.


WARNING: IF YOU HAVE A LESS THAN AN IRONCLAD STOMACH, DO NOT CONTINUE READING.


The Walk Through:
The place was de.stroyed.
Is destroyed a strong enough word?
Cat feces everywhere.
Toilets full of (yes, you guessed it).
Rotten food in the fridge.
Mold ALL over the kitchen.
Cigarette butts, beer cans...need I say more?
I don't think I really needed to say more than CAT FECES. The odor alone did me in. I couldn't even walk through the house without Justin having to take his shirt off so I could put it over my face to breathe. And do you know the problems cat feces cause for pregnant women? If not, please find out.

Before no one ever decides to visit me at my new home, let me tell you the amount of blood, sweat and tears that have now gone into this. First, my dad and 4 other people went in on the front lines to begin the demolition work. Let's just say this, my dad, armed with a face mask and gloves, had to take a shovel to the toilets and even (vomited) inside his mask. Twice! Then they ripped up all the flooring so Justin and I could come in and prime the entire house with Kilz. All the walls and the bare floors had to be primed with this paint that seals out stains and odors. And since Friday, Justin and a whole slew of volunteers have been installing the flooring while I primed and painted every inch of that house. The boys are still installing the flooring as we speak with no end in sight, but has to be finished by...yesterday.

And initially my dad thought all we were going to have to do was shampoo the carpets.
Chyah, right.